


Follow You Anywhere

by levicas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Gen, what do i even tag this under
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levicas/pseuds/levicas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working a case in Mississippi, Cas and Dean come across a psychic who knows far too much about Castiel's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow You Anywhere

"Go on, Cas," Dean said, pushing the angel through the doorway.

"This is ridiculous," Castiel retorted, shooting Dean a fed up look. They were working a case in Mississippi (Sam was hunting a Djinn a few towns over), three men had all been killed rather violently within the space of a week and the culprit was a suspected angry spirit, however, the only woman with any knowledge of the deceased other than her victims was a local psychic. Neither of them had particularly wanted to have to talk to her, but Castiel had lost their game of Rock, Paper, Scissors (mainly because of his inability to understand what they were doing) so the burden fell to him.

"Just go in, talk to the crazy lady, find out what she knows and get out."

Castiel sighed, and pushed open the door. The psychic's shop was a small square room, the walls covered in a regal purple coloured wallpaper and draped in golden talismans. Tapestries were hung on the walls, as were mahogany shelves lined with golden trophies and collectibles. In the centre of the room was a small table, a beanbag on either side - one of which the woman was sat on. Castiel scoffed internally her, she looked the way a typical 'psychic' would - dressed in brightly coloured sheets of curtain-like material paired with overlarge golden loop earrings and far too much eye shadow. She smiled up at Castiel as he entered, but her smile quickly dropped, turning into a look of admiration and awe. 

"Wow," she whispered. "You are...fascinating."

Castiel didn't respond, confused by her greeting. "Good evening to you too, ma'am."

"Sit, my child," she sighed, waving him over. She had far too many rings on her fingers, and pretty henna pattern ran across the back of her hand and up the length of her forearm. "My, my, my," she said, taking his hand as he sat down across from her and turning it over several times to examine it. 

"Look, I'm sort of in a hu-"

"Shh!" she interrupted him, changing her focus from his hands to stare into his eyes. "You're a peculiar being," she said, "I see your face. Your real face."

"What?" Castiel said, it was beyond strange for someone to be able to perceive his true form when trapped inside his vessel. Any normal human would just see the face in front of them - the face of Jimmy Novak. That led him to believe that this woman was not normal. 

She sucked in a deep breath as realisation swept over her features. "You're an Angel of the Lord!"

"I guess,"

"A seraph!"

"You could say that,"

"Oh, but you have sinned!"

"What?"

The woman leaned closer to him, and whispered her next words as if saying them too loudly would be dangerous, like someone would overhear. Castiel knew that was absurd, if anyone was nearby he would sense it - the only presence he sensed apart from the psychic was Dean waiting outside in the Impala. There wasn't even a single person on the streets, all locked in their homes scared to death of the murders occurring in the town. "You have killed many of your siblings. Fellow angels," she paused, "Your friends."

Castiel clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. "Raphael-" he began, knowing it was stupid to have to explain himself to a mortal woman. But she knew, she knew of those he killed in battle. The brothers and sisters he'd murdered. He had to inform her: Raphael had been trying to take over Heaven, he'd done what he had to, even though he wasn't proud of it.

"You did what was necessary," she interrupted, but then her eyes turned sad. "Except for once."

 _Except for once._  
One brother he'd unnecessarily killed.  
One friend who valued him above anything, and whom he valued.  
And he'd killed him. _Killed him._ Murdered him, like an animal for slaughter.  
He hadn't been sane, but he'd killed him. He remembered it, in far too vivid detail. Shoving the knife deep into his back until he felt his grace light up, he'd felt his brother's spirit leave his body and felt his body become limp and lifeless in his arms. What was worse - he'd not regretted it when it was over.  
His best friend. He'd killed him. And he'd betrayed him.

It was different now, he convinced himself. He was no longer filled with unworthy pride and arrogance, nor were the souls of purgatory or the Leviathans finding their homes inside of him. It didn't change anything, though. The guilt still ate him alive, gnawing at him until he was nothing but a carcass. 

"I'd give anything to bring him back," Cas breathed, barely audible in the tender silence.

And it was true. The thought that Balthazar was dead pained him enough, but to have been the one that killed him, betrayed him - that stung. It was like rubbing salt into a raw, bloody wound. Of all the brothers he'd killed, Balthazar was the one that tore him apart inside. Cas remembered everything, every single word Balthazar had ever said to him, every joke they'd made, every horrible order Zachariah had given them and forced them to do without question.

He preferred to think of happier memories, though they were few and far between. Most of all he remembered watching over Earth, Anna on one side and Balthazar on the other as they marveled at the strange beauty of the humans below them building tall pyramids on the sand where they would bury their kings. 

"We could go down there, you know," Balthazar had suggested. He longed to discover more about them - to know why their father cared for them so much. Balthazar saw himself as a higher being to them, but he never voiced it. He simply followed orders. Still, Zachariah knew of Balthazar's and enjoyed taking the matter to higher authorities.

"No, we couldn't."

"Don't you want to know what it's like?"

"I know that if you keep talking like that they're going to torture you again."

Balthazar flinched, the memory of his latest experience still fresh the forefront of his mind. He cast it away and laughed. "I don't care!" he sang, "One day, I'm going. I might never come back."

Balthazar's smile faded and he was silent for a few moments, thoughtful. "You'll come with me, right?"

"Balthazar--"

"I'm not going without you. Just-- you say the word and I'll stay. I'll be a good little soldier and remain here forever." Balthazar's face become solemn, nothing would displease him more than to never get the opportunity to walk the Earth, and Cas knew it.

"I'd like to go, too," Castiel admitted, "I'd like to learn their ways. They're peculiar creatures, don't you think? Wonderful!"

"You go, I'll follow," Balthazar responded, taking Castiel by surprise for a second. "I'll follow you anywhere, Cas."

 _I'll follow you anywhere, Cas._ The words Balthazar had said so long ago rang in his ears. He wished Balthazar had never followed him, stayed away from him when he went insane with greed, remained in the garrison and never left. Never tried to help the Winchesters stop him from absorbing the souls of purgatory. Been a good little soldier like he'd promised. If he'd done all that then maybe, maybe he'd still be alive and Castiel wouldn't have such a weight on his frail shoulders that was crippling him, more and more every second. It would destroy him, and it wouldn't ever stop destroying him. The only person that could possibly save him was Balthazar, and he was long gone. Long gone.

"You cannot bring him back, Castiel," the psychic said, "Move along."


End file.
